


I Don't Want to Wait Till Christmas (To Love You)

by donteattheappleshook



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Cobra - Freeform, Captain Cobra Swan, Captain Swan AU - Freeform, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28319601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donteattheappleshook/pseuds/donteattheappleshook
Summary: Emma's done something stupid. She's told her mom that she has a boyfriend and has promised to bring him home for Christmas dinner. The problem is she doesn't have a boyfriend, she hasn't even had a real date in twelve years. Luckily, her best friend, Killian Jones, is there to help - even if he has to make her online dating profile himself.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 149





	I Don't Want to Wait Till Christmas (To Love You)

_November 24th_

Emma wasn’t sure exactly what it was that compelled her to say it. Maybe it was the way her mother glanced hopefully behind her when she answered the door to greet her and Henry. Maybe it was the way she tried to discreetly clear the extra place setting when she thought her daughter wasn’t looking. Maybe it was the sixth comment about how Ruby Lucas’ daughter had gotten married last spring before her dad had even carved the turkey. Maybe it was the third mention of a young single son of a friend in town. Maybe it was the combination of it all but whatever it was, it caused Emma to say four words that she immediately regretted. 

“I have a boyfriend!” She said it so abruptly that her dad nearly dropped his pumpkin pie. Henry froze with his fork halfway to his mouth which was pretty impressive. She didn’t think anything could come between a twelve year old and food. But the way her mom’s eyes lit up nearly made her wince, wishing she could take it back. 

“You do?” she asked, almost disbelieving. If it wasn’t a lie, Emma might have been offended. 

She cleared her throat. “I do.” Henry was eyeing her. He knew she was lying. He was probably still too young to understand exactly _why_ but she hoped he knew enough to not rat her out.

“Well where is he?” her mom asked excitedly. “Why didn’t you bring him?

“Who is he?” her dad asked, a little more sternly. It didn’t matter that she was thirty-two. Her dad would always be overprotective. Although, she supposed her last serious relationship gave him enough cause to be. 

“He’s… with family,” she lied, actually wincing this time. 

“Is it serious?” her mom wanted to know. 

“Um, it's getting serious.” She didn’t know how she was pulling this off but they were buying it. 

“Well, tell us about him!” 

“I’d... rather wait. It’s still new.” Her mom looked disappointed. Then, she got an idea.

“Bring him to Christmas dinner!” she insisted. And that’s when Emma, under the imploring look from her mother, the skeptical one from her father and the smirking one from her son, said one word that was even worse than the other four put together. 

“Okay.” 

_November 25th_

“You don’t have to laugh so hard,” Emma grumbled, bringing her beer to her lips.

“I’m sorry, love,” Killian said through a near wheezing laugh. “But what the bloody hell prompted you to say such a thing?”

Emma grumbled some more and Killian smirked at her. She hadn’t swung by his bar to be teased. She’d swung by for a drink and some help. Though she should have known she wouldn’t get one without the other.

“I don’t know, okay! My mom was just being - well, _my_ _mom_. And I just wanted her to get off my back and stop bugging me. I _know_ she’s disappointed I’m not married. I don’t need a reminder at every family dinner!”

“She just cares about you… even if it’s in her own, nagging way.”

“But _why_ does she care so much? I thought the reason mothers wanted their daughters to get married was so that they could have grandkids. I already gave her Henry. What more does she want?” 

Killian chuckled. “Your parents have one of those rare, happily ever after, true love kind of romances. She wants you to have it too, to be happy, to have a partner.”

“A partner?” she deadpanned.

“You know, someone to help you with Henry, to cook for you when you’re too tired, to help you get through the really shitty days. Someone to be there for you.” 

Killian Jones had been her best friend for nearly twelve years. They’d met by happenstance when Henry was a baby. She’d been twenty and struggling through her infant son’s new phase of waking up at three in the morning screaming bloody murder. She was young and alone and things with her parents had been tense after everything happened with Neal, so she couldn’t bring herself to go home. 

Instead, she sat up in her tiny apartment trying to rock Henry back to sleep. Nothing had worked, until one night, his screaming had been interrupted by a soft humming voice in the hallway, one that turned into a gentle song. Henry’s eyes had drifted shut almost immediately. It had happened again the next night. 

On the third night she finally opened the door to see her neighbor walking down the hall back to his apartment, humming to himself. She didn’t get a chance to say hello or ask what he was doing singing at 3am before he’d closed the door behind him. 

The following night, she’d waited for the strange singer to rescue her once again. But he wasn’t there. The hall was empty and Henry cried his poor little heart out. It continued for over an hour until she snapped. Blaming lack of sleep and new-mom panic, she’d banged on his door, only to be greeted by a confused and groggy Englishman. 

“Can I help you?” he’d asked, looking between her and the screaming baby in her arms. Emma had almost been too distracted by how goddamn handsome he was to remember why she was there. But then Henry gave a particularly loud cry and she remembered. 

“I need you to sing,” she’d said. 

“Pardon?”

“Please. It’s the only thing that gets him back to sleep. He hears you when you’re coming home and…” She’d trailed off but he seemed to have understood. He’d still looked rather confused but he’d obliged. 

“ _She moved away from me, and moved through the fair_ ,” he started and almost instantly Henry had begun to settle. He’d looked at her in shock but had continued until the baby was sound asleep. 

“ _Thank you_ ,” she’d said. 

He nodded. “No problem. Killian,” he introduced himself. It was only then that she noticed his missing hand. 

“Emma. This is Henry.” 

For the next month, Killian had swung by the apartment on his way home from work whenever he heard the baby cry. And he’d woken up and knocked on her door the nights he didn’t have to work late. They’d quickly discovered that even being held by Killian seemed to sooth her son in a way she couldn’t understand or replicate. 

“Hmm,” he’d hummed with a playful smirk. “Usually it’s the ladies that I have this effect on.” 

“What? You put them to sleep?” she’d asked and he’d laughed hard enough to wake Henry again. The rest had been history. 

Now, over a decade later, he was at her and Henry’s place nearly as much as he was at his own. It wasn’t uncommon for her to call him in a panic if she needed him to pick up Henry or watch him after school. And nearly every time she’d come home to dinner that he’d actually cooked, rather than defrosted like she would have. Their evenings were spent on the couch, sharing rum or watching movies. She knew everything there was to know about him. And he about her. 

Emma raised a brow at him. “What do I need a husband for? I’ve got you.” 

He smiled at her fondly and a little bit pleased. “Aye, you do. And I’m going help you,” he told her, leaning on his prosthetic and holding out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

She eyed him skeptically but handed it over. “What are you doing?” Her frown deepened as he studied her carefully and she heard the click of the camera lens.

“Downloading Tinder,” he said as he tapped away at the screen. Emma nearly lunged across the bar in an attempt to get her phone back but he held it out of her reach. 

“What? No!” 

“Yes. You need a boyfriend by Christmas. That’s exactly one month away. You better get started.” 

“Tinder?” she asked. “Really?” He considered her for a second and then nodded. 

“You’re right. We’ll use Bumble instead. You strike me as the type to make the first move. 

She sat back in her seat, crossing her arms and nearly pouting, causing him to laugh at her. “This is stupid,” she insisted. “It’s never gonna work. What are you gonna write? ‘Desperate single mom of a pre-teen who spends her nights tracking down assholes instead of brushing her hair’?” 

“Exactly that, yes,” he nodded. She glared. “Come off it, Swan. You’re a catch.” She narrowed her eyes even more. “You’re smart, you’re the toughest woman I’ve ever met - toughest person, really. You’re a knockout, and you’re even funny sometimes.” He said the last bit with a cheeky grin and she tried not to blush at him calling her a knockout. He was her friend. He was supposed to say things like that. “Look! You’ve already got three matches!” 

“What?” she demanded, reaching for her phone again. He let her have it this time. She stared in disbelief. Right there, three handsome, normal looking men interested in dating her. When she looked back up at him he had that stupid smirk on his face again. 

“Told you.” 

“What do I do?” 

“Introduce yourself, ask him on a date, and then at some point in the middle of the meal ask him what he’s doing for Christmas and if he’d like to come home and meet your parents.” She smacked him in the arm but he leaned over to look at her prospects. 

“He looks fairly non-murdery,” Killian said, pointing to a dark haired and bright blue eyed man. “Why don’t you say hello?” 

She bit her lip. Was she really gonna do this? Was she going to try and find a man to bring home for the holidays a month from now. Killian gave her another encouraging look and a nod. She opened the chat. 

_December 4th: August_

Emma shut the door to her apartment and leaned against it, sighing, exhausted. What a damn night. She didn’t have time to wallow though before Henry was rushing over to her from the couch, demanding to know how her date had gone. Killian wasn’t far behind, looking a little more tense than her son. She shrugged. 

“It was fine,” she said shortly. “Don’t think there’ll be a second one though.” She _knew_ there wouldn’t be a second one. 

“Why not?” Henry wanted to know. Killian only looked at the floor, his posture more relaxed than it had been a second before. 

“Sometimes they’re just not the right fit,” she lied. Henry looked disappointed but nodded. “You need to get to bed kiddo. It’s past your bedtime.”

Killian looked a little sheepish. “I promised him he could stay up until you got home. He was really excited to hear how the date went.” Emma smiled at him, brushing some of Henry’s hair off his forehead and kissing the top of his head. 

“Sorry to disappoint. Come on, let’s get you to bed,” she said before leading her whining son to his room. 

When she came back into the living room, Killian had already poured two glasses of rum. He slid one across the coffee table to her as she sat down beside him before grabbing his own. 

“So what really happened?” he asked.

Emma sighed. “It _was_ fine. At first.” Killian smirked, settling in to hear the story as she put her feet up on the table. “He seemed really nice and he was polite if not a little self involved.”

“How so?”

“He’s a writer. He talked to me about his book for an hour straight.” She shrugged. “It still wasn’t so bad. But then he kissed me outside the restaurant,” she told him, nearly shuddering at the memory.

“Is that bad?” 

“It is when it comes out of nowhere and he leads with his tongue.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah. I felt like he was trying to lick my tonsils and my teeth. Oh god it was just so…” she couldn’t find the words. 

“Maybe he was nervous? First kisses can often be awkward and -”

“He had a boner.”

Killian nearly spit his drink. “I’m sorry, what?” 

She nodded, burying her face in her hands. “I could feel it against my leg and I know he knew I felt it because he just like froze and then I froze and then he got really weird and quiet and… he ran away.”

“When you say ran…”

“I mean he fucking booked it down the street. I haven’t seen someone run that fast since track in high school.” 

Killian looked too appalled and shocked to laugh and she appreciated that small kindness. “I’m sorry, love,” he said, reaching out to brush a hand through the hair at the back of her neck. “That sounds terrible.”

She shrugged, leaning into him a little. “Thanks for watching Henry.”

“Anytime. You know that.” His fingers had started rubbing at the muscles in her neck and shoulders. “I love the lad.” She did know that. Killian had always made a point to make sure she and Henry knew how important they were to him, how much he liked being in their lives. 

There had been an awkward moment when Henry was three and he’d started asking where his dad was and then started asking if Killian was his dad. He wasn’t the only one who’d made the suggestion that she and Killian should try dating, but the truth of it was that when they’d met both of them had been too broken to even consider love in their lives. 

Neal had taken off on her, nearly landing her pregnant _and_ in jail - if it hadn’t been for her parent’s lawyers… And Killan, well, between his prosthetic and the name tattooed on his forearm it hadn't been hard to put together that something tragic had happened. He’d told Emma about her eventually, about Milah. 

_I could really use a friend_ , he’d said. And Emma had needed the same. And now it had been twelve years and she couldn’t imagine her life without him. The risk of changing that, of losing it… it was terrifying. Sure, he was handsome and kind and funny and charming. But he was her friend. She needed him. Getting into bed with him would ruin that. Even if she had thought about it once or twice. Even if she had caught him looking at her a little too long or a little too softly. 

“Well,” he said then. “On to the next one.” 

“What?” she demanded. “I’m not going on another date after that!” 

“Of course you are.”

“Give me one good reason.” 

“Do you really want to tell your mum that you made up a boyfriend?” 

Emma gaped at him. Stupid, smug asshole. 

_December 5th: Arthur_

Emma let herself into Killian’s apartment, throwing herself unceremoniously onto his couch. “I need a drink,” she demanded.

“Well hello to you too,” he said, waking over from where he’d been standing in the kitchen when she barged in. He didn’t disappoint though, handing her a beer. Henry was with a friend tonight and Emma planned to get plastered. 

“I take it the date didn’t go well?” He sat next to her, drawing her legs up over his lap and rubbing at her calves through her jeans. 

“Nope.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

She scoffed. “Which part? The part where he ordered for me? The part where he told me that bail bonds wasn’t a suitable job for a woman? Or the part where his wife showed up?”

She thought his eyes were going to bulge out of his head. “His _wife_?”

“Oh, it gets worse. She was there with someone else. His best friend. Turns out he suspected she was cheating and he was using the date to spy on her.” 

“Bloody hell.” Killian stared at her for a moment before reaching over and taking the beer from her hands. 

“Hey!” she cried but he was already up and headed towards the kitchen. 

“You’re gonna need something stronger,” he told her and Emma laughed. It was a relief that he could still make her laugh after a night like that. 

“I’m gonna need a double of something stronger,” she said. 

He smiled. “As you wish.” He brought her the bottle. 

“Good man.” 

“You know,” he said after a moment. “I’ve got a friend who's single. He’s got a kid too. Little younger than Henry but he’s a nice bloke.” 

“You want to set me up with your friend?” 

His pause was a little too long. When he spoke it was slow and careful. “I’d like you to have _one date_ that isn’t with a complete asshole.”

“Ha, good luck. That seems to be the only kind of guy who’s interested.” 

“I refuse to believe that’s true.” 

“Alright then,” she said after a moment. “Prove me wrong.”

_December 10th: Robin_

This time, Emma went straight to the bar. This was becoming a habit, finding Killian and drowning her sorrows with him after a bad date. She wondered at the fact that she was starting to look forward to that more than her dates. She was tired. Her feet hurt and her back hurt and her clothes were muddy and she was pretty sure she had leaves in her hair. 

When Killian saw her he looked apprehensive. “Swan,” he greeted. “How was it?”

“It was fine.”

He didn’t believe her. “Was this a beer fine or a rum fine? Will I have to refrain from ever talking to Robin again?” 

She shook her head. “No really, it was fine. _Beer fine_ ,” she conceded when he looked skeptical. “He’s a nice guy. Like, _really_ nice. And he’s funny and genuine and he wasn’t a creep. And he talked about his kid a lot, which I liked. I can see why you like him. He seems like a good guy to have a drink with.” 

Killian relaxed slightly. “But..?” he prompted. 

Emma let out a whine, nearly collapsing on the bartop. “He took me _hiking_ , Killian. _Hiking_!” Everything hurt.

He winced. “Oh no. I should have warned you,” he said, handing her a large pint. “Robin’s a real outdoorsy kinda guy.” 

“I know. He mentioned going camping. I had to tell him it wasn’t going to work out. He took it like a champ. He thinks the three of us should hang out sometime.” 

“If you’re both still willing to be my friends then that sounds like a grand idea.” She raised her glass at him.

“It would take more than that.” The smile he gave her made her breath catch and she cleared her throat in an attempt to settle the twisting in her stomach. “So, who’s next?” she asked, pulling out her phone and opening the app. Killian cleared his throat too, reaching up to scratch behind his ear, something he only did when he was nervous. She was going to ask him about it but he leaned over, ready to help her pick the next guy and she let it go. 

_December 13th: Walsh_

It took everything Emma had not to slam the door behind her. She was raging. Her hand was burning, pulsing where her knuckles were swollen. Stupid. Asshole. Men. Every single last one of them. She went to the tap, running cold water over her hand. Killian came into the kitchen quietly. Okay, maybe not _all_ of them. He took one look at her and his whole body went rigid.

“What happened?”

“Is Henry asleep?”

“Aye.”

“How’d you manage that?” she asked, trying to distract him. He was looking her over carefully, stepping forward slowly like she was some wounded animal or, more likely, an angry one that might lash out. “You let him play _Call of Duty_ didn’t you?” she said. 

He didn’t deny it, nodding his head as he reached her, pulling her hand out from under the tap and looking at it. His fingers were burning hot against her cold skin. His eyes darkened. 

“What happened?” he asked again. 

“Nothing,” she sighed, her anger dissipating as he brushed his thumb under her reddened knuckles, inspecting it carefully. There was a look trapped somewhere between fury and concern on his face as he implored her to tell him the truth. 

“Swan.”

“I punched him,” she shrugged, hoping he would take the hint and brush it off. It was fine. She was fine. He didn’t. 

“Why?”

“Killian…” she tried but he wouldn’t have it. She could tell by the way he looked at her that he wasn’t going to let this go. “He got a little too handsy. Wouldn’ take no for an answer when he tried to feel me up behind the bar. So I punched him.” 

He was glaring at her hand, his expression darkening by the second. “Hey,” she said, raising the hand he wasn’t holding up to his cheek and forcing him to look at her. “I’m fine. It’s just some bruised knuckles.” He still looked upset, angry and even a little afraid. “Killian. You know I can handle myself.” 

He dropped her hand suddenly, brushing past her to the freezer. “You shouldn’t have had to,” he muttered bitterly, slamming the door a little too harshly as he pulled out a bag of frozen peas. He still had his back to her and she looked at him nervously. She’d never seen him this upset except for that one time when Henry had broken his arm while in his care and she’d met him at the hospital. 

“I know. But sometimes I do.” His shoulders tensed. He flinched a little when she brushed her palm between his shoulder blades but relaxed when her arms wound around his chest and stomach. “I’m fine. Really. No need to murder anyone. I think I might have broken his jaw actually.” 

He let out a shaky sigh that was almost a laugh and turned, wrapping her up in his arms and squeezing a little too tightly. She pressed her cheek to his chest and stroked his back. “Shouldn’t I be the one comforting you?” he said finally, his chin resting on top of her head. 

She shrugged. “We both know _you’re_ the sensitive one between the two of us.” 

He laughed then and she felt it reverberate through her whole body. It made her smile. She missed the heat when he let her go but put her hand in his outstretched prosthetic when he gestured for her to do so. He put the frozen peas on her knuckles and held them there for a moment, checking it every now and then. She watched him with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk playing at her lips. 

“This one won’t stop bleeding he said finally,” eyeing one of her knuckles that had split. She probably _had_ broken the guy’s jaw. 

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said before ducking under the sink where he knew the first aid kit was. He pulled out a piece of gauze and took her hand again, pressing it to the cut. 

“Really, Killian, it’s nothing. You don’t have to -”

“Emma, could you just let me help you? Please?” The way he said it made her stop protesting. She nodded, letting him pull out another roll of gauze and asked her to hold one end as he wrapped it around her hand. When he was done he took the piece from her and tied it around the other. She was going to make a comment on how she was impressed he could do this one handed when he brought her hand up to his face, catching one end of the knot between his teeth and pulling tight. Her breath caught in her throat, something warm and not altogether unwelcome settling in her stomach. He met her eyes over her hand, fabric still in his mouth and suddenly she was having trouble controlling her breathing. 

“Sorry, love,” he said then. “Did I hurt you?” He turned her wrist over gently, inspecting his work. 

She shook her head, taking a moment to clear her throat as she tried to get her heart back to normal. “No,” she said, but it was shakier than she’d have liked. 

“I think you’ll live,” he told her after a moment, offering her a small smile and if she could have shook herself she would have. This was Killian. He was her best friend. She couldn’t let herself think about him that way. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” he offered. “Henry and I made some.” She nodded. _He’s your best friend_ , she reminded herself as he walked to the stove and reheated the pan. _He’s your best friend_.

_December 15th: Victor_

“Emma!” Killian smiled happily when she walked through the door of the bar. “I thought you had a date tonight. What are you doing -”

“He hit on the waitress,” she said and he shut his mouth. 

_December 17th: Graham_

“Mom has a date!” Henry announced as they walked into Killian’s bar, Henry sitting himself in a stool. Killian raised his eyebrows as he set to pouring the kid a rootbeer. 

“I do not have a date,” Emma said, rolling her eyes. 

“Yes you do,” he insisted. He turned back to Killian. “Yes she does.” 

“With who?” he asked. “I thought you’d decided to give up on your quest to find a Christmas date after the debacle with the doctor.” 

“It’s not a date. I met Henry’s teacher at school. He’s having trouble with geography. Gra- Mr. Humbert said he could help. We’re meeting for coffee to talk about it.” Killian raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her and then shot her son a conspiratorial look. “ _What_?”

“You have a date.” 

“It’s not - shit. I have a date don’t I?” 

“Mhm,” Killian nodded with a cheeky smile. “I had no idea you were hot for teacher, Swan.” 

“Ew, gross,” Henry grimaced. 

_December 18th: Graham_

“So how was it?” Henry demanded. Am I getting an A in Geography?”

“Why are you still up?” she asked, looking at Killian accusingly.

“Why are you home so late?” he answered with all of his new teenage sass rolled up into one sentence. Emma saw Killian hide his laugh behind his fist. She glared. 

“It was fine.”

“Violet said that if you marry my teacher, then he has to give me an A.”

“I’m not marrying your teacher, Henry.” 

“Not _yet_.”

“Bed,” she warned him. “ _Now_.”

Once Henry was asleep, she met Killian back in the kitchen. He was leaning back on the counter with his arms crossed. “So?” he asked.

“So?” she repeated, confused. 

“How was it really?” 

“Oh.” She paused. “It was actually fine… good even.” His eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear awkwardly. He seemed very far away. He was only across the small kitchen but she felt like there was suddenly some insurmountable distance between them. “He… he’s nice. A bit shy but in a sweet way. And he’s funny. He likes Henry a lot too. And Henry likes him.” 

She didn’t know who was more surprised, her or Killian. After countless, terrible attempts at dating, some great, lovely guy had just fallen into her lap. And she liked him. She did. It wasn’t some overwhelming all consuming thing but she didn’t believe in that. People didn’t really feel like they couldn’t bear to be without the other person. People weren’t puzzle pieces that fit together. She glanced up at Killian who looked pensive. 

“Well that’s good. It’s important that he and Henry like each other. Do you think you’ll see him again?”

“I think so.” Why was everything suddenly so awkward? They’d talked about every single one of her dates. Why was this any different? 

“Well, that’s wonderful. I’m happy for you,” he told her, though he hadn’t looked up from the floor once. When he finally did, he gave her an awkward, insincere smile, one she’d never seen from him before. “I should get going,” he said. “It’s getting late and you work early tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“Goodnight, Swan,” he said, crossing the short distance that had seemed so enormous a second ago. He caught the back of her head in his hand and pressed a kiss to her temple. He’d done it before. They’d always been comfortable with each other, casual touches and friendly kisses and hand holds. He was her friend. 

But her whole body warmed when his lips touched her and she felt it like a physical loss when he walked out the room. She couldn't help the feeling that she might not see him again, that she was losing him. But she couldn't. He’d promised her after all. They’d promised each other. 

_December 20th: Graham_

After Killian had left that night, she hadn’t seen him for two days. She’d tried to call him once but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. She was starting to get worried. Even on her date tonight, Graham had pointed out that she seemed distracted. 

When she’d told him the truth, that she was worried about a friend, he’d suggested she go home and check on him. How was he so goddamn sweet? How many guys would suggest she leave a date to go check on another guy. She’d shook her head, telling him she was sure Killian was fine. 

He’d kissed her at the end of the date. It had been nice. No butterflies or fireworks but not unpleasant. First kisses were never what everyone hyped them up to be. They were always awkward. It took people time to figure each other out. 

When she got home though, all she could think about was how much she wanted to talk to Killian. It was strange not to see him sitting in her living room when she came home. She’d even walked by his bar and snuck a peek inside to see if he was there. He wasn’t. 

She was sitting on her couch, letting a cup of tea go cold when there was a soft knock on the door. She checked the time. It was late. Only one person would show up at this time of night… but he wouldn’t knock. She stood and headed to the door, looking through the peephole and letting out a sigh of relief when she saw Killian on the other side. 

“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded. It had only been forty-eight hours… but still. He looked sheepish. 

“Sorry,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. “I caught some wicked flu. Couldn’t get out of bed until this morning. Didn’t want to risk getting you or Henry sick.” Her internal lie detector went off, but not in the way it usually did. It went off like only part of what he was saying was a lie, like some of it was true. She tried to hide her confusion. Why would he lie to her? He never lied to her. 

He held up a bottle of rum then. “Can I come in?” She eyed him carefully before nodding and leading him over to the couch where he poured them each a glass. “So?” he said finally, nudging her with his elbow. “How was it?” She gave him a confused look. “The date,” he elaborated.

“How did you know I had a date tonight. He smiled, reaching over to catch a lock of her hair between his fingers. 

“You curled your hair. I’ve only ever seen you do that for special occasions, court hearings, and, most recently, dates.” 

She laughed. “Am I that predictable?”

He smiled again and shook his head. “I think you just know how to play up your strengths. Poor sod never stood a chance.” She did her best to hide her flush with a laugh even as her heart started to hammer against her chest. “So will you be bringing him home for Christmas?” he pushed. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Isn’t it a bit fast?”

“You could tell him the truth.”

“That I made up a boyfriend? That’ll send him running.”

“It shouldn’t.” She gave him a look. “You were trying to get your parents off your back. If he likes you, it won’t matter. There’s no too soon in love.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Since when have you been a romantic?” she asked though she always suspected a small part of him was more so than he let on. 

He rolled his eyes at her. “I’m just saying. If he can’t look past something as silly as that and realise how lucky he is to even be asked, then he’s not worth it.” 

She smiled at him, the heat coming back to her cheeks. How did he just say things like that? How did he tell her the sweetest, kindest and most supportive things she’d ever been told as though it were no big deal? As though it should be obvious? He grinned and it was that same smile that made her breath catch again. 

“Do you want to watch something?” she asked. “There must be some Christmas movies on.” 

He nodded. “Aye.” 

They found a movie and sat back on the couch. Emma hesitated for a moment, wondering why she was even thinking about something that would normally have been so natural. She snapped herself out of it, leaning over and resting against his side as they settled in for the film. Killian raised his arm over the back of the sofa, making more room for her and she made herself comfortable. She’d been stupid. She’d been crazy to think she could ever lose him, that they could ever lose this. 

_December 22nd: Graham_

**Killian: Three dates in a row Swan? In three nights? That sounds pretty serious. Did you tell him about the great deception?**

**Emma: It’s not that serious. We just both happened to be free. No, I didn’t tell him.**

**Killian: Is he still the frontrunner?**

**Emma: Looks like it.**

**Killian: Is that all you’re going to give me? Really?**

**Emma: We just watched a movie…**

**Killian: I can read those three dots as well as I can you. A little Netflix and chill was it? A little Amazon Prime and sexy time?**

**Emma: Please stop.**

**Killian: Hulu and hang?**

**Killian: Youtube and yoohoo?**

**Emma: Are you done?**

**Killian: Imax and climax?**

**Emma: I’m rolling my eyes so damn hard at you.**

**Killian: Ou, scary. Hey, isn’t tomorrow Henry’s last day of school?**

**Emma: Yeah! Finally!**

**Killian: Shall we take him out to celebrate? Granny’s maybe?**

**Emma: I think he’d love that! How nice of you to offer to treat.**

**Killian: Haha! Wonderful. I’ll meet you at his school to pick him up?**

**Emma: Looking forward to it!**

_December 23rd: Graham and Henry and Killian_

“Afternoon, love,” Killian greeted when she arrived at the school. Of course he got there before her. And he was already holding two travel mugs on a tray. She took hers - which had a little sharpie drawing of a swan on the lid - from it and then took the tray so he could grab the other. “Is everything set to go to your parents’ tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Henry can’t wait. Don’t tell him but they got him the new Playstation. He’s gonna lose his damn mind.” She laughed at the excitement in his eyes. They both knew that meant Killian would be able to come over and play it with him and that he wouldn’t have to buy his own. Emma liked video games enough, but that was their thing.

“And will you be bringing the lovely Mr. Humbert?” 

Emma took a deep breath. “Yeah.” 

“Really?” he asked, eyes wide. “I didn’t think you’d bring yourself to ask.”

She shrugged. “He mentioned that he wasn’t doing much since his family is out of town and well, I took your advice and told him everything. He offered to help. He’s a good man.” 

“Sounds like it,” he agreed, taking another drink of his coffee. “Ah, there’s the boy now.” Henry came charging at them, clearly thrilled to be done school for the next few weeks.

“Hey!” he said, giving her a hug before giving Killian one. Killian hugged him back and then ruffled his hair with a mischievous grin, causing Henry to cry out in protest and shove the man. Killian wrapped his arm around Henry’s neck and Emma shook her head as she watched them have an entire little wrestling match with Killian still holding his coffee up with his good hand. When he was finally free and red cheeked and laughing, Henry asked what they were both doing here.

“We thought we’d go to Granny’s to celebrate the start of Christmas vacation,” she told him.

“Can I have extra fries?”

“Yeah, Swan, can we?” Killian jumped in. 

She rolled her eyes. “Henry can. _You_ should be careful what you eat, you almost lost a fight to a twelve year old just now.”

Killian scoffed. “This coming from the woman I watched eat three grilled cheeses in one day. I’m the epitome of health.” Emma caught herself looking at his arms and his shoulders through his jacket. He wasn’t _wrong_.

“That was breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” she shrugged. Killian laughed and shook his head at her. “Shall we?”

They were just heading down the road when someone called “Emma” from the school yard. She looked up to see Graham coming towards them, his smile bright and excited. He had a nice smile. He had a nice everything, really. 

“Graham, hi,” she greeted him. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, aware that he was still in a school yard full of his students. 

“Ew,” Henry said and Killian put his prosthetic on his shoulder, trying not to smirk at him. 

“Hi, Henry,” Graham greeted and Henry waved. Graham looked at Killian next, reaching his hand out and introducing himself. Killian stuck his coffee between his left elbow and his side, and shook his hand. 

“Are you Henry’s father?” he asked.

“No, just a friend,” Killian corrected. 

“Oh,” Graham said awkwardly, looking between the two of them. “Sorry, I just assumed.” 

She could understand why. He wasn’t the first to make that mistake. They looked so comfortable together, but that wasn’t new. Emma hadn’t noticed though how much they’d started to resemble each other. It was little things, Henry had started wearing his hair in the same way, carrying himself the way Killian did. Even his shirt and his jeans resembled Killian’s usual look. She wondered how long it would be before he asked for a leather jacket. She’d let Killian take him to buy one if he did.

“We’re going to Granny’s for fries.”

“There will be an actual meal in there, kid,” Emma warned him. 

“Do you want to come?” Henry asked suddenly. 

Graham looked to her, clearly hoping she’d tell him whether he should let the kid down gently. She was torn. Going to Granny’s was kind of their thing, the three of them, they’d been doing it since before Henry was old enough to eat the fries. But she and Graham were dating now. And if she wanted to make a go of this, a real go and try to make it work, she’d have to start letting someone into the little life they’d created. 

“That would be great,” she said then. “Are you free?” 

Graham beamed. “Absolutely.” 

The walk to the diner was nice. Henry asked Graham a million questions about school and about what he used to do for Christmas back in Ireland. ‘ _Graham’s from Ireland, mom, did you know that_ ?’ ‘ _Yeah, kid, I gathered._ ” Graham answered each question with grace and asked a few of his own. He was really good with her kid - she supposed it came with the territory but it was such a huge bonus. 

Even he and Killian seemed to get along well, which to her surprise mattered more to her than she’d realized. At one point during the walk he reached out and bumped her hand with his, taking it in his own and she smiled at him as they walked the rest of the way like that. 

The four of them settled into the booth but when Granny came to take their order she looked at Graham in surprise. That was fair, they’d never brought anyone else with them before. She looked between Graham and Emma and then between Emma and Killian and frowned. But she took their orders - she didn’t need to write down any but Graham’s - and left them to it. 

“Are you getting your tree tonight?” Henry asked Killian around a mouthful of fries. 

“I don’t think so, Lad,” he said, looking a little sad about it. Henry looked almost crushed. They had a little artificial tree that they put up every year because they were never home for the holidays. But Killian went out and cut a real one down every year and they usually went with him. 

“Why not?” he demanded.

“My brother called. It was their turn to come down and visit, but he and Elsa and their kids have all come down with strep throat and they won’t be able to make it.”

“Oh, no,” she said, reaching out to place her hand over his false one. “I’m so sorry.” He shrugged. 

“All the more reason to get one!” Henry insisted. “We could decorate it tonight before we leave! It’s tradition! Don’t you still want to do the parts of Christmas you can?”

Killian smiled at him, raising a brow. “You make a good point. Alright then, we can go get it tonight.” He looked at her then. “Emma? Will you join us? Graham, you’re welcome to come as well,” he offered. “If you’re going to be stuck with Emma’s mother all weekend you should at least get to do the fun parts too.” 

“Hey!” Emma chastised. Killian raised a brow at her then. 

“Are you trying to suggest he won’t be the object of her undivided attention?” Emma sank down in her seat and gave Graham an apologetic and thankful look. He only smiled and agreed to come with them. 

The tree hunting went well. Killian and Henry had to be talked out of tree after tree by Emma pointing out that Killian’s apartment didn’t have fifteen-foot ceilings. They debated over the size, the type, how full it should be. Though all of it was pointless because in the end Henry always got to pick it. 

But it was still fun. Even Graham added in his two cents. He had a weird amount of knowledge about trees and let them know which ones would last longer and which would turn brown in a few days. 

At one point, Killian reached over to put his arms over her shoulders but then he stopped himself and she realised he had because Graham was there. She didn’t like how much that upset her. She wanted him touching her. She’d always liked their closeness. But she supposed that if she was with someone maybe they couldn’t be the way they had always been and a melancholy settled in her chest.

Henry begged, as he did every year, to be allowed to cut it down. And this year, for the first time, they said yes. She’d never seen him so excited as Killian guided him through how to saw it down. But Henry had watched him do it enough times that he was a natural. Henry also insisted on helping to carry the tree back so Graham helped him lift the trunk as Killian took the top and they walked it back to the cabin to pay. 

While Killian was at the cash register with Henry, laughing with the man who worked there, who he’d known for years now, she caught herself watching him with a small smile pulling at her lips. He was going to be alone at Christmas and still he’d made a point to help make Henry’s Christmas the best it could be. She noticed Graham was watching _her_ , a strange expression on his face. She smiled at him and he returned it but it wasn’t the full, genuine one he usually wore. 

Killian and Henry returned carrying four hot chocolates between the two of them, handing one to her and one to Graham. “Congratulations, Humbert,” Killian said with a friendly smile. “You survived your first Swan tree cutting. If hearing these two go at it over what a tree should look like didn’t scare you away, nothing will.” 

Henry scoffed. “A Swan-Jones tree cutting,” he corrected. “Mom won’t let us get our own. And _you’re_ the one who’s picky.” Killian shoved him with his elbow. Graham watched the three of them, his expression still unreadable but then, finally, as Henry and Killian headed off to try get the tree into the back of his truck - Henry directing and Killian doing all the heavy lifting - a sort of understanding smile fell over his face. 

“Emma, I should go,” he said then and she turned to him in surprise. 

“Go? Why?” He brushed a piece of hair behind her ear and gave her another one of those understanding, though slightly sad looks. 

“There’s no room for me here. The three of you… you’re a family. I don’t want to come between that.”

“Graham -”

“It’s okay, really. But… you should see how he looks at you, Emma.” 

She turned to them now, watching the two most important men in her life laugh and bicker as they hoisted the tree up into the truck bed, hot chocolates resting on the roof. Both of them were red cheeked from the cold and from excitement. 

Graham was right. They _were_ a family. Killian may not have been Henry’s father but he’d been as much of a dad to him as any man could have possibly hoped to be. And to her… that was a more complicated question. She thought of what she’d said to him weeks ago. _What do I need a husband for? I have you_. 

“I’m so sorry,” she told Graham. His smile was genuine this time. 

“It’s alright. Someday I’ll have what you guys do. For now it’s something to aspire to.”

“How are you so goddamn nice?” 

He laughed. “So long, Emma. See you at the next parent-teacher conference. And Merry Christmas.” 

“Where did Mr. Humbert go?” Henry asked when she met them at the car. 

“He had to leave.” Killian watched her carefully, concern evident in his eyes.

“Is he coming to Grandma and Grampa’s?” 

“No. But, Killian, would you like to come?” 

“Me?”

“Yeah. It’s Christmas. You should be with family.” The smile he gave her was wobbly and he nodded. 

“Aye, I should.” 

That night as they decorated the tree, Emma wedged herself into his side, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“What was that for?” he asked. 

“Everything.” He gave her another one of those shaky smiles and kissed the top of her head. As she leaned her head on his shoulder she couldn’t get over how well she fit there, or how she’d never noticed before. 

_December 24th: Killian_

When they got to her parent’s house that morning, both were shocked to see Killian there. “But I thought you two were…” her mom started. Emma stopped her before her imagination could run wild. 

“We’re still just friends, mom,” she told her, trying not to let how disappointed she looked bother her. “But Killian has been one of the most important people in our lives for over a decade. I know you want me to have someone to be there for me and take care of me and Henry and I thought you might want to know that we do.” A softness fell over her mother’s face as Emma waited with baited breath for her reaction. 

Killian cleared his throat. “That was a hell of an introduction, Swan,” he said, before being pulled into a hug by her mother and one of those weird, manly handshake shoulder pats by her father. 

The day was spent preparing food, watching Christmas movies and decorating her parent’s tree. Henry bragged about the one they’d gotten the day before and her mom kept shooting her these knowing looks that she was trying to understand. 

“I’ve always liked Killian,” she told Emma when they were making coffee and tea and hot chocolate for everyone. 

“Me too,” she said, a bit confused. 

“No. I’ve always liked him _for you_ ,” she said before taking off into the living room with her tray, leaving Emma standing there with that just unloaded and left there. She hesitated before going back in, hearing Henry beg to be allowed to open one present before bed and his grandparents agreeing that he could open one from them. She hovered in the doorway, watching Henry and Killian unpack the Playstation with equal levels of excitement. 

As her dad began helping him set it up, Killian turned and caught her eye, smiling at her and it sent a warmth flooding through her. He stood and made his way over to her leaning against the wall next to her shoulder. 

“Thank you for inviting me.” 

“I shouldn’t have waited so long,” she answered honestly. His cheeks went red even as he smiled at her with a raised brow. 

“Hey!” Henry shouted then. “You guys are under the mistletoe! Ha! You have to kiss,” he told them, his tone almost mocking. Both of them looked up in shock and then laughed awkwardly, nervously as they looked at each other. 

After a moment Emma shrugged - why not? - and Killian’s brows jumped in surprise before something softer settled over his expression. He leaned in, hesitant and slower than he maybe should have for a silly mistletoe kiss, but when his lips brushed hers it was as though everything finally clicked into place. Everything she had been so afraid of was staring her down in this moment, and all of it was meaningless, unwarranted. He was Killian. He was family. She _loved_ him. 

When he pulled back the slightly glazed over look in his eyes matched hers. “Merry Christmas, Swan,” he told her. 

“Merry Christmas.” 

“Ew, gross,” Henry commented from his spot under the tree, making both of them laugh. 

When it was time to turn in and go to bed, her mother gasped dramatically. 

“Mary Margaret? What’s wrong?” her father asked in concern. 

“The other guest room is being renovated. I only set up the one guest room because Emma was supposed to be bringing a boyfriend.” She looked at the two of them. “Henry’s already on the couch. Maybe Henry could share your room and -”

“I’m not sleeping in a bed with my mom,” Henry complained. “I’m twelve.” 

“Well maybe David could take the couch and Emma you would come with me and -”

“I can just go home,” Killian offered awkwardly. “It’s not too late to get a cab.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve!” her mother insisted. “You have to be here for presents in the morning and -”

“We’ll just share the bed,” Emma interrupted them to everyone’s surprise. “It’s a bed,” she shrugged. “It’ll be fine. No sense in complicating everything. I’m pretty sure Killian and I can handle it.” 

Once they were in the room, Emma tucked under the covers and Killian standing awkwardly next to her, he scratched behind his ear, which was going red. “I can take the floor, Swan, if you’d rather -”

“Killian, just get in the damn bed,” she said, exasperated. 

He laughed a little and nodded, his nervousness fading away as he slid in next to her, making sure to keep an appropriate amount of distance between them. He’d slipped his prosthetic off and he tucked his blunted arm under his head as he lay on his side behind her.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she said over her shoulder.

“So am I.” 

“I mean it. You should have always been here.” In this house, in her heart, in her bed, she wasn’t even sure which she meant. He cleared his throat, but it wasn’t awkward, it was heavy. 

“Emma…” She didn’t say anything but she felt his fingers brush over her hair, pulling it over her shoulder and then tracing her spine. When she didn’t pull away he grew bolder, letting his arm snake around her waist, hand splayed hot on her stomach as he pulled her in closer. She settled back against him, tucking herself against his chest and his hips and she heard his sharp inhale. She looked over her shoulder at him and even in the darkness she could see the emotion playing on his face. 

She turned onto her back, his hand still on her stomach, fingers just daring to inch a little higher. He was balanced on his blunted arm now, hovering over her and she reached up to tangle her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. His lips were soft against hers, hesitant at first but it shot desire and want and love through her veins, warming her even as goosebumps spread over her skin. 

She opened her mouth under his and he groaned against her lips, letting his tongue slip in and explore. She shifted beneath his touch as his hand slid over her side, her ribs, her hips before finally palming one of her breasts, teasing it as she gasped. 

She pulled at his shirt and he let her pull it up over his head as he moved to settle over her in the cradle of her thighs. She could feel his hardness pressing into her as his hand and wrist slipped under the fabric of her shirt and pulled it off as well. He hovered over her for a moment, taking in the sight of her and the look of awe on his face made her heart hammer against her ribs. 

He kissed her again, lips trailing down her neck to her chest and stomach to the hem of her pjs. He looked at her and waited for her nod before sliding them off her hips. He covered her mouth with his again, this kiss deeper and headier as his fingers found where she was wet and desperate for him and it was all she could do not to cry out under his touch. But she wanted him. They’d have time later. This was twelve years overdue. 

She pushed at his own pyjamas, working them past his hips and then letting him kick them off. She didn’t get a chance to look at him properly before he lay his whole body over hers again and kissed her, lips and teeth and tongue working her higher as he rolled his hips over her own. 

She reached between them, taking him in hand and guiding him to where she wanted him and he shuddered as he slipped inside. “ _Gods, Swan_ ,” he breathed against her neck as he moved in her, every thrust winding her tighter and tighter, the burn and the stretch of him perfect. She was already so close, her nails digging into his shoulders, her hips rolling up against his and he pulled her knee higher over his hip. 

“I love you,” he said into her collarbone before he started moving faster and she’d have answered but every word she had was swallowed by a groan or a gasp or his lips until she came with her back arching and her eyes squeezed shut, hanging onto him for dear life. He followed a few moments later, a strangled cry leaving him before he collapsed on his side over her, wrapping his arm around her back and pulling her so tightly against him there was no room left between them. 

The room was filled with their panting breaths, his skin damp and hot against her own. “I love you too,” she said when she could finally speak again and he pulled back so he could look at her, the brightest smile she’d ever seen lighting up his face before he kissed her again. “Merry Christmas,” she said, smiling against his lips. 

He laughed, kissing her again. She was pretty sure she’d never tire of him kissing her. “Aye, the bloody best Christmas of my life.” 

“Because of the playstation?” 

“Absolutely because of the playstation.” 

When they came downstairs holding hands the next morning, Henry shot his grandparents a smug look. “I told you so.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to xhookswenchx for looking this over for me! You can all blame carpedzem for telling me about her favorite tropes.


End file.
